Act 1, Scene 1.
Ming’s room, ulugamalated Yew Tee.
Ming : No thank you.
(5 minutes later)
Mum : Do you want X.
Ming : No thank you.
Mum : Really.
Ming : No thank you very much.
Mum : Why not?
Ming : I just don’t want it, OK?
(5 minutes later)
Mum : Here’s X (places X on table).
Ming : But I said I didn’t want it!
Mum : Well I want you to have it. And I already made it and brought it here! Take it, you should appreciate my effort. (stomps off huffily)
Ming : … OK, whatever. (defeated).
[and we all wonder why ming is fat.]
Act 2, Scene 1.
Two places, Yew Tee and Upper Thomson. Dialogue takes place via sms.
Mum : Do you want X.
Ming : No thank you.
Mum : Do you want X.
Ming : No thank you.
Mum : Really.
Ming : No thank you very much.
(10 minutes and a barrage of 10 smses later in which the level of Huffiness is becoming More and More Apparent in Mum’s tone)
Ming : … OK, whatever. (defeated)
Couple this with the deadly emotional blackmail missives of
“why-didn’t-you-reply-my-sms-I-was-so-worried-about-you”, “can’t-you-just-leave-your-meeting/service/class-to-return-my-call”, which leads to
“you-don’t-want-to-listen-to-me-anymore” and finally the dreaded
“you-don’t-love-me-anymore”,
Or how about the circular tirade of “you’re-not-happy-right”, “tell-me-why-you’re-not-happy”, and “am-I-wrong-in-giving-you-this?” “so-why-are-you-not-happy”
and you see why it always ends on defeat in my part.
Sometimes I wish I’d never taught my mother how to sms.
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